Hall of Legends
by MidnightR3m1x
Summary: Years after the lives and deaths of the members of team RWBY, there exists an exhibit in a museum with a very valuable piece of Huntress equipment. One that a lot of people would pay some heavy money to get ahold of. A one-shot for now; but ideas are floating around.


The Hall of Legends. I entered reverently, mindful that I was in a very, very special place. Ironic, considering my purpose.

I walked through the ornate, beautifully crafted doors into a high-ceilinged room full of plaques, notes, and battle souvenirs; all framed or in air-tight glass containers. I looked around briefly, taking note of the bigger and more well-known trophies before heading to the back, through the doors painted and carved into symbols representing Dust and Energy. I pushed through the door into the hall beyond.

This was the Hero's Corridor. A portrait of each Hunter and Huntress remembered there hung from the wall, along with a painting of their symbol, and their weapon; if it survived. I passed the first two; a bow named Nitor owned by one Silva Cursor, and a spear called Aestus Procidens owned by Modry Nebesa. They had been strong warriors. Their team had defended the city during the Breach and held off attackers while civilians tried to escape. It was there that they had fallen.

All of those there had given their lives in defense of at least one person. Some had gone out in a blaze of glory, others made it to the hospital, only for there to be nothing to do to save them. I almost felt guilty for what I was about to do.

And there, at the end of the hall, sat perhaps the most well-known and respected Huntress of all time. Ruby Rose; the Reaper. She stood proud, with a half smile on her face and her Rose symbol underneath the picture. And there; before her, in a nearly transparent case, was Crescent Rose itself. A six foot long scythe and sniper rifle. Amazing that she had been able to combine them the way she had; and built it herself, no less! One of the most dangerous weapons ever created. The God of the Hunter Weapon world. And I knelt before that case.

I stared for a long time, but I was here for a reason. I pulled a small hammer from my pocket and took a deep breath. I brought it down.

Glass shattered and alarms blared. I had ten seconds to get the hell out of there, and I wasted no time. I grabbed the scythe and ran. Doors thicker than me from chest to back began quickly descending from the ceiling over the walls and doors and blast-proof cases slammed over every artifact in the room . I sprinted for them as hidden doors flew open and armed guards piled in. Sliding under the door as I was told to drop the weapon, I waved with a smile that was surely insulting to the guards as they tried to shoot me. The door boomed shut, and I was gone.

Into the bathroom to the vent that I had loosened several days before; removing the last screw. Crescent Rose was far too large in it's current form; I barely fit into the tiny vents myself. It took me no more than a moment to figure out how to fold it up. I did so and tossed it in ahead of me. I slid in; there were footsteps pounding up the hall, straight for me, so I took the only screw I had, replaced the vent on the wall, and squeezed my fingers through. The screw went back into it's place. The vent was slightly lopsided, but I hoped that it wouldn't be overly noticeable.

I army-crawled my way up the vent. Just as my feet passed the vent cover, the door was smashed open. I squirmed through the steel passage, praying that they didn't notice the lopsided cover. I came to a corner and wriggled around it; to a spot I had measured to precisely. I set Crescent Rose horizontally in the shaft and activated its extension cycle. It destroyed the integrity of the passage, and it fell; into a basement room.

It was part of the archives of the place. Old exhibits or pieces that needed repair sat littered around the room. I didn't stop to look. I took off for the emergency exit from the basement; it let out directly onto the street. I blew through the doors and out into the open air. I folded the weapon up while registering the sound of fire alarms behind me. A car pulled up; blacked out and fast as the wind. I dove into the back seat as the vehicle took off. The job had been a huge success, my buyer would be very happy. Today would be payday, and we could let the media take the story where they would while we got to wait it out in comfort.


End file.
